When I was a kid, I would dream up completely insane
presents to put on my Christmas wish list—shit that no parent could ever
possibly afford and no child could ever possibly deserve. And every year, my parents would tell me
before Christmas that I would NOT be getting the little race car I saw on the Obstacle
Course round of Double Dare. They would sit me down and explain that Santa
wasn't a Formula One mechanic and that I shouldn't be a fucking idiot.

The problem is that, on occasion, my parents DID get me
something I wanted. But in order to keep
it a surprise, they would play hard-to-get and tell me that I had no chance of
getting Voltron, or whatever other stupid thing it was that I wanted. I heard enough fake NOs from my mom over the
years that I began to recognize the pattern and immediately assumed that NO
meant YES. "Oh, mom says I have no
chance of getting that hoverboard? IT'S
MINE." And then Christmas would
come and I'd get a bag of fudge and hate the world.

Now I'm the parent and it's my turn to engage in the futile
task of managing my child's expectations.
This is the actual wish list that my daughter, who is 7, handed me a few weeks ago. It's completely unreasonable
and I have no way of explaining this to her without being a dick, or without
her thinking I'm pulling some reverse-psychology shit on her. Let's take a look at this thing, item by
item.

"New American
Girl Doll of the Year 2014." The
heartless corporate executives at American Girl roll out a new "doll of
the year" doll every year, complete with its own book and shitty DVD movie
(the last one starred Nia Vardalos and Ian Ziering) and a meticulously crafted
backstory that reads like an account planner's wet dream ("She's a
spirited girl who draws on her passions to inspire action!"). And the kicker is that these dolls are always
sold for a limited time (the 2013 doll of the year, Saige, is also on my kid's
wish list and costs $110 if you can find her), so that mothers around the world
step on each other's gullets just to secure one for their brainwashed
offspring. Anyway, American Girl has not
named its stupid doll of the year for NEXT year yet, but my kid wants it
anyway. I assume the doll's name will be
Kayden. Here is my kid asking for a
present from the future, and that represents one of the more reasonable items. I love you, but you cannot have this,
sweetheart.

"A bead kit like [my friend's]." You got it.
Done. In the basement as we
speak, kiddo. But now we go a little off
the rails ...

"A little thing
that can turn into anything at anytime." The fuck is this? What am I, Galactus? Do you understand the catastrophic universal
implications of possessing a shape-shifting, time-traveling device? Even Rob Gronkowski knows that isn't to be
toyed with. You could turn it into a
separate moon any time you like and then the Earth would be fucking DESTROYED
by the additional gravitation. You
cannot be trusted with this at age 7.
If such a thing existed and were affordable, I wouldn't have children. I would have a SPACE BROTHEL. There's a reason that we have the laws of
physics in place. And you expect this
thing to be portable as well? You cannot
have this.

"1,000
bucks." This is Christmas, not an Italian wedding. Uncle Vito isn't gonna slip you an envelope
in between stints at the raw bar. We put
thought into our gifts here. You want
cash? Clear the spiders out of the
attic. I'll give you three bucks for
it. A thousand dollars. Jesus Christ.
I'm sorry, but you cannot have this.

"A new canape
that glows up." So, like, a glowing miniature crabcake with a
toothpick in it? I could maybe do
that. MAYBE. Sounds like something Saige the doll might
eat.

"A grill."
She actually put this on the list because my wife thinks I should buy a new
grill even though the old one is fine and I haven't cleaned it in two
years. The cancerous black flecks let me
know the meat is good. Anyway, she was
thinking of me when she put this down, and that's heartwarming. I will buy you a second bead kit for being so
selfless.

"A black, light
blue, green, purple, and pink North Faces." FIVE North Face jackets, a
hundred bucks each? Dream smaller. When did North Face jackets become hot
again? Did you also want an autographed
copy of Phish's Hoist? That is apparel meant for serious outdoorsmen
who dangle from belayed ropes on the south face of the K2. The outdoorsiest we get is when we roll down
the window at the fucking Wendy's drive through. You cannot have this.

"A new radio."
Done. I'll throw in my old Betamax collection
as a stocking stuffer.

"Monster High ear
buds." This is Monster High, and
it's completely fucked. It's like
someone at Mattel held up a market research study and screamed, "Our Barbie
dolls aren't causing as much body dysmorphia in children as they used
to! MAKE ME A LINE OF BULIMIC VAMPIRE
DOLLS OR YOU'RE ALL FUCKING FIRED."
How are these toys even legal?
It's like handing your child a Steve Madden ad. Anyway, these are cheap, so maybe I'll get them
if you are good. FUN FACT: A child could
go on a five-state killing spree and no parent would be heartless enough to
actually bail on Christmas presents. The
nice list has worse grade inflation than Harvard.

"All of the
Beanie Babies." I have a theory that no one actually buys Beanie
Babies—people simply acquire them from older parents who dump a
truckload of the fuckers onto new parents, who don't understand that they've
just been bequeathed a pile of garbage.
Anyway, you cannot have ALL of these.
Maybe a couple of Beanie Boos from the LAX airport. They're the only gift there under $17.

"A little thing with that can turn into anything
at any time." As you can see, my kid bumped this item up the list. Owning an imaginary
object that can grant her God-like powers is now THIRD on her list, right
behind the bead kit. Priorities.

"Saige, the American
Girl doll." Fun facts about
Saige from the AG website!

Where
she lives: Albuquerque, New Mexico, the hot air balloon capital
of the world

Also the vaginal-painting capital of the world!

Best
friends: Tessa, a musician; and the new girl, Gabi, who knows how
to train animals

And Harmony, who died.

Fun fact: She can draw horses
that really look like horses

No, she can't. She's
a doll. She is lifeless. YOU SELL HARMFUL LIES.

Anyway, my ma got her this already. Sucker.

"iPod
Touch." Oh God, the fucking iPod touch. If one kid at your kid's school gets an
iPhone or an iPod Touch (and I assure you many parents will poison the well by
doing just this), it's over. Your kid is a
SLAVE to Steve Jobs's corpse forever. My kid makes drawings of iPhone covers. She does writing exercises about iPhones. When I asked her what she wanted between a
flying car and an iPhone, she picked the goddamn iPhone. And here we are, acting as if Steve Jobs bestowed some wonderful gift upon humanity.
LITTLE AFRICAN TODDLERS KNOW HOW
TO USE AN IPAD INTUITIVELY! Fuck
you, Apple.

My kid asked Santa for this iPod, and I had to carefully
explain to her that Santa does not produce electronics, he can only license
them with permission from both the parent and the manufacturer. My kid still believes in Santa, even though I
have told her that there's no such thing as magic (she wanted to know after
reading Harry Potter), and so now she doesn't believe in any sort of magical
powers except for Santa's ability to traverse the entirety of Earth in a single
evening. The center cannot hold.

"A lightup Razor
Scooter that is the color blue."
"Dad, for Christmas, can I get hit by a car?"

"A pet puppy. Border
collie with a peacesign coller, and a leash."NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Hell
no. Do you see any borders in this house
that need patrolling, apart from the bathroom door when Daddy is having his
alone time? No. Do you see any sheep that need herding? No. Are
you gonna give a shit about walking it or feeding it after, oh, three days? No. All
of the work will be left to me. This
site says, "Border collies can become aggressive due to fear. ... Do not
approach or handle your dog suddenly from behind." Great.
Fucking great. That is the exact
wrong breed for a human child. Children
will sneak up behind dogs and bash a tambourine into their heads because that's
funny. You cannot have this dog. I'll get you the leash, though. You can walk Saige with it.

"A black rist
bange."I don't know what this is, but I bet they sell it at
Justice. Done.

"Saige Paints the Sky: The movie." Done.
You get the doll, the DVD, the radio, the bead kit, a couple of Beanie
Babies, and the werewolf anorexia headphones.
NOT A BAD HAUL. And you deserve
it, kid, because I love you and would do anything for you except hand you a
thousand bucks cash, the power to control all existing matter, and an iPhone to
boot. But take heart: There's a glowing
crabcake waiting for you in your stocking.
Merry Christmas!